Consequences & Patience
by Beth Arritt
Summary: John's view of the aftermath of Unorthodox Methods. Sequel to Unorthodox Methods.


This is the sequel to Unorthodox Methods from John's point of view. If you haven't read Unorthodox Methods, or the first sequel, Consequences & Awareness, they're both available on my web page at [http://gwis2.circ.gwu.edu/~betha/fanfic.htm][1] or you can e-mail me at [betha@gwis2.circ.gwu.edu][2] and I'll send them to you. Feedback is always appreciated.

As always, all characters belong to CS, S/MP, NBC and the incredible cast and crew of Profiler. I'm just borrowing them, I promise not to hurt them or make any money off of them, and I swear I'll put them back when I'm done.

* * *

**Consequences & Patience  
**by Beth Arritt  
_Copyright 1998_

  
It's after midnight. I would have bet that she'd be here by now, but it doesn't matter. I know her well enough to know she'll show up soon. I'm so certain that I've made two cups of tea. I take them both to the living room and put them on the coffee table, then check my watch again, just as there's a knock on the door.

I hurry to open the door, and as expected, Sam is on the other side. "Hi. I hope I didn't wake you."

She always says that, just as I always answer with, "I don't sleep." I open the door wider, "Come in." She walks over to the couch, sits down and closes her eyes, already looking a little more relaxed than when I opened the door. I close the door and follow, sitting down next to her, and ask unnecessarily if it's been a bad night. She nods and leans into me, my cue to put my arms around her. We sit in silence for a few minutes, then she asks if I'm expecting someone. For a second I'm confused, then I realize she must have seen the mugs on the table.

"You," I respond, as I reach for one of the mugs and give it to her. "I figured you'd show up tonight of all nights. Do you want to talk about it?"

"What good would it do?" she asks with a shake of her head. Her attitude is frustrating. I know she doesn't want to, but she needs to talk. And I can't make her. "It wouldn't bring Coop back. I should have expected the anniversary of his death to be hard, but I was hoping I'd be dealing with it a little better by now."

"After only a month? Isn't that asking a bit much of yourself?"

She put her cup down and leans back against me. "I don't want to talk about it." Fine. I keep my mouth shut and just try to comfort her as much as I can. But instead of relaxing, she's tensing up again.

"What's wrong?"

She shakes her head against my shoulder. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." She's lying, at least to herself if not to me. "Did you sleep last night?" She shakes her head again. She always has trouble sleeping before she resorts to coming here. The last few nights must have been really rough, though, because after a short pause, she reaches up and kisses me. For a split second, I'm tempted, but I can't let her do this. "Sam...." She knows what I'm about to say, because she tries to stop me with another kiss, but I pull away. "No."

I can see her trying to come up with an argument. "Why?"

"Because that's not the way to deal with this."

After a long moment, she agrees. "But it would be a lot easier," she adds as she curls up next to me. 

"I know." We stay like that the rest of the night, until dawn, when she goes home. I can tell when she's leaving that tonight didn't help as much as it has in the past. And she'll be back soon. I wish I knew how to stop her pain, but I can't help her until she decides to help herself.

***

The next night, she's back again. Part of me wants to remain silent and just comfort her. Having Sam to cuddle with on the couch on a frequent basis isn't exactly something to complain about. But I can't stand to watch her suffer, so I have to try to help. Of course, in order to help, I have to get her to talk, something she's not eager to do. Not to me, and lately not to anyone else, so I hear. "How are your sessions with Melinda going?"

I can feel her tense. "Okay." She sounds like she'd rather not talk about it. Too bad.

"Did you see her today?"

"I was supposed to, but we got so busy that I had to cancel."

I was at the office today, I know she could have made the time. "That's the third cancellation in the last two weeks."

That gets her attention. She turns to look at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just an observation." She turns back around, but I can't let it go. "You are dealing with all of this okay, right?" She nods, but remains silent. "It's just that you seem pretty down, and...." I'm not sure what else to say.  


"I'm just tired. I can't shake this flu bug and it's making it harder to cope. That's all."

"You're sick?"

"Chloe had the flu last week and I think it finally caught me." That actually makes me laugh. "I guess now you're really glad you let me in, huh?"

"Tell you what. Promise me you'll go to the doctor and get some antibiotics and I'll let you stay."

"Okay." She's sick, I'll let it go for now and save my energy to make sure she sees a doctor tomorrow. I can't make her deal with her mental issues, but I can make her deal with her physical ones. With a little help.

***

Grace is busy with a microscope when I walk into the lab early the next morning. "Hey, Grace."

"What can I do for you, John?" she asks without even glancing at me.

"It's about Sam." I know they're friends, so I'm not quite sure how to approach this. When I don't continue, she looks up.

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm not really sure. She says it's just the flu, but I know the entire task force got shots, and she doesn't seem to be dealing with... recent events well, and..."  


"And you're worried about her?"

I nod. "She promised to go to the doctor today, but you know she won't. So I figured maybe if I talked her into letting you check her out, you could convince her to go to a regular doctor if she needs to."

"You mean we gang up on her, right?"

"Well, that's not exactly how I thought of it, but..."

"Fine. If she's not feeling well, I'll be happy to take a look at her, but I can't promise anything else. She's pretty stubborn."

"Tell me about it," I grumble. "I'll have her here in less than five minutes, trust me."

***

It only takes two minutes to bully her into going to see Grace. I wait until I'm sure she's not going to bolt from the room the second I walk away, then I leave. Half an hour later I'm getting impatient, so I go by Sam's office, but the lights are out and the door is locked, so I head for the lab.

"Hey, Grace, where's Sam?"

"She went home."

That throws me for a loop; Sam never takes time off. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"I think she'll be fine, physically."

"What's wrong?"  
  
Grace won't quite meet my eyes. "She'll tell you about it, I'm sure." She glances at me, and something in my face must give her a clue just how worried I am. "Don't worry, she's not seriously ill."

"Okay." That's not as comforting as I think she meant it to be, but it'll have to do for now. "Thanks."

***

I'm trying to concentrate, but I'm not having much luck. I haven't talked to Sam since I left her with Grace the next morning. I saw her come in this morning, but she went straight to her office and hasn't come out since. Finally I give up pretending to work and head for her office.

I see her sitting at her desk as I approach the door. For someone who took almost the entire day off yesterday, she doesn't look very rested. In fact, she looks more tired and stressed than before. I knock on the door, and don't even wait for her to speak. "So, Grace checked you out and sent you home yesterday?" She nods, but doesn't offer an explanation. "And it was the flu?" From Grace's comments I'm pretty sure it wasn't, but asking 'what the hell is wrong with you?' doesn't seem like it would be the best way to find out.

"No, apparently I'm perfectly healthy."

That definitely doesn't compute. "Then what's wrong with you?"

She hesitates for a brief second before she looks me in the eye. "I'm pregnant."

I know I heard that wrong. "What?"

"I'm pregnant."

Maybe not. "Oh." Oh. Whoa. "Um... is it... is it... um, mine?" I don't know why that question was so hard to get out.

"It would have to be, yeah."

"Oh." What do you say to someone who just told you out of the blue that you're going to be a father? A father. Holy shit. 

"John, sit down before you fall down."

Good idea. I drop into the seat in front of her desk. It's easy for her to think logically, she's had time to get used to this. Sam's having a baby. No, Sam's having my baby. This can't really be happening. But it has to be. Sam wouldn't lie, and she wouldn't joke about something like that. Ever. So it has to be true. I study her face. She doesn't look pregnant. Of course not, she wouldn't, not after only a month. At least I don't think she would. She doesn't, so that must be right. 

This is nuts. I'm debating whether or not she should look pregnant when I'm pretty sure there are more pressing matters to deal with. "So, uh... what are you going to do?" Such a nonchalant question to have such an important answer.

"I always wanted more children, but without Jack around, and with a--" She breaks off, but I know what she was going to say.

"With a husband. I'm sorry, Sam." I silently curse my decision to go out drinking alone that night, not for the first time. She wouldn't be in this shape if I had just gone home.

As usual, she refuses to let me take the blame. "We already had that discussion. There's no blame here."

"Maybe there's no blame, but there's responsibility." Almost before the idea has time to fully form, I find myself asking the question. "Do you wanna get married?" Great, John, smooth proposal.

"Thanks for the romantic proposal, but I think I'm going to have to decline."

"Why? You are having the baby?"

"Of course. But...this isn't just about you, or just me, or just the baby."

Now I understand. I'd forgotten the center of the universe for a moment. "Jack."

"That's right, Jack. He factors into every decision I make. If we go around declaring that the two of us are about to have a baby, he's going to come after you, and there won't be anything either of us can do about it."

She obviously has no faith in my abilities. "I can handle Jack." 

"No, you can't." She shuts the door and comes back to stand in front of me. I'm not sure I want to hear what's coming next, especially since she shut the door to say it. "I'm going to let everyone think the baby is Coop's."

"Like hell!" I find myself on my feet and face to face with her. "You can't do that!" The day that my child bear's Cooper's name will be a cold day in hell.

"I can, and I will." She sounds so calm and matter of fact about it that I know she's given it a lot of thought, but I don't care. "I can't do it again. I can't go through that so soon. I still haven't recovered from what happened to Coop, and now I have a baby to think about. If Jack found out that you were the father of my child, he would come after you, and he would kill you."

"You don't know that." He came after me once before and I survived. Okay, so it wasn't actually him in the room, but that's not the point.

"And you don't know that he won't. Face it, John, the odds are definitely in his favor. He hasn't failed yet."

I don't want to face it. "I'm not afraid of Jack."

"It doesn't matter. I'm afraid enough for both of us." She takes my hand, and I find it a little harder to keep up my anger as I'm suddenly reminded of how much she's been through and how fragile she is. "I want--no, I *need* for you to go along with me on this."

"I don't like this. I don't like lies, especially not about something as important as this." But I can feel myself wavering.

"I know. And I wouldn't ask you if it weren't a matter of life and death."

I'm still not quite convinced. "I always vowed if I had a child I'd be a better father to it than mine was to me."

"If Jack finds out you're the father, you won't get a chance to be one at all." 

Her eyes are begging me to agree, their plea even more compelling than her logical arguments. Finally, I sigh. "Okay. I'll go along, for now. But I reserve the right to change my mind if the situation changes." And to shout the truth from the rooftop if that bastard gets caught.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet. There's still a chance that he could find out who the father is, you know."  


"Maybe, but I don't think he'll dig that deep. He'll congratulate himself on killing the father before he even knew, and go on with his obsession."

"Until we catch him. And we *will* catch him." I'm more dedicated to putting that son of a bitch either behind bars or six feet under than ever before. "But right now, don't you have to see some other doctor or something?"

"Yeah, I made an appointment for this afternoon."

"Good." I feel like I've given up so much already, I can't resist a disclaimer. "I don't plan to just sit back and pretend like I don't care, by the way. I can't."

She nods. "I don't suppose you'd like to give me a ride to the doctor's office?" she asks hesitantly.

The question is a surprise. I would have expected her to avoid spending any time with me, but maybe she's figured that the best way to keep me quiet is to keep me as happy as possible. "You're sure?" She nods, and I don't question my luck a second time. "Okay. What time?"

"2:30."

"I'll be here." I wander back to my desk, trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to act like nothing out of the ordinary is going on. A father. Will wonders never cease...

***

I still haven't resolved the whole situation in my head as I drive Sam to the doctor's office. I can't quite resign myself to total silence, especially if I see Sam every day. We don't speak all the way to the office. While she's in with the doctor, I look around for a something to read, but all of the magazines are about babies, and that's the one thing I'm trying not to think about right now. Not thinking about it is the only way I can get her back to the office without an argument. So I won't think about it.

That lasts until we get into the car. "So, when's the baby due?"

"You know how these things work." She's trying to lighten the mood, but I really don't feel like joking around. "Eight months."

I can't think of anything else to say for a few minutes. At least nothing that I should say, not if I want to keep the peace. But I keep thinking, and finally I can't keep quiet any longer. "Sam, are you sure you want to play this game?"

"I don't want to. I have to. There are no other options."

"There are always options."

"No other acceptable options, then. Not to me." We're back at the office already. I turn off the car, but I don't make a move to get out. "Look, John, I know you have rights, and I understand how hard this is for you, but there's no other way."

I'm getting tired of having to make the same promises over and over. "I gave you my word; I'm not going to say anything. But I want to make sure you have no doubts. You can have everything you wanted for this baby--"

"Except no Jack. This isn't forever. He has to get caught one day. And I'm not going to shut you out of all of this either."

I may get to be involved, but I still have to be in the background. And I hate it. But I can see her point about options, and the last thing she needs right now is to have this kind of thing hanging over her. "Okay." I hope I can do it. I have to do it. "So when are you going to tell everybody?"

"I need to tell Bailey right away." Oh, great. "The security around me may need to be tightened. Jack's not going to like this." The pause before she continues worries me. "I have to tell Bailey the whole story."

"You mean including the part about me being the father?" She nods, and I cringe. "Oh, great, so not only will everyone be telling you what a comfort it must be to be having Coop's baby, they also get to wonder why Bailey suddenly despises me."

"He won't despise you."

Yeah, right. "He'll think I'm a total bastard for taking advantage of you."

"Stop saying that. If anyone was taken advantage of it was you. I used you. It wasn't fair of me to do it, and it isn't fair of me to ask you to keep quiet either, but I'm doing it anyway. Trust me, you'll look like a saint by the time I finish talking to Bailey. He'll wonder why you put up with me."

That makes me laugh. A blind man could see why I put up with Sam. She's the only one who can't see it. "I doubt that. But let's get it over with."

***

She refuses to let me go talk to Bailey with her. All my arguments don't do any good, she just tells me it will go better without me. Finally I start to worry that she might think that about the entire pregnancy, so I shut up and let her go alone. Less than two minutes after she goes into Bailey's office, I realize I'll go nuts if I don't find something to keep myself busy. Casual conversation with friends is out at the moment--I'm not quite able to lie about this yet. So I go back to my desk and attempt to work. Not that I get anything done; I'm too busy watching Sam's door. As soon as I see her go into her office, I have to go see how it went. 

When I knock, she tells me to come in, which I guess is a good sign, if you're grasping for straws. "So, how did it go with Bailey?"

"Fine. He thinks you're wonderful. I, on the other hand, am a horrible person, but since I'm pregnant he's willing to forgive me for now."

Right. "And what does he think about Jack?"

"He agrees with me." I hadn't realized I'd been hoping he'd have different view of Sam's plan until just now, and I can't quite hide my disappointment. Since it has nothing to do with my feelings for her, she picks up on it immediately. "You were hoping he'd think it was safe to tell the truth, weren't you?"

"I know better. Still..." I'm not sure what I was really hoping.

"I'm sorry."

I find that pretty amusing. "If you're going to say that every time I get disappointed over something about this situation, you'd better just make a recording right now. From now on, no more apologizing."

"You're right, I'm so--" She realizes what she's saying and stops, which makes me smile. 

I think about the months ahead. "So now what?"

"Other than you and Bailey, the only one who knows is Grace."  


"She knows that I'm--"

"No, she just knows I'm pregnant. I imagine she thinks Coop is the--"  


I hold up my hand to stop that thought before it even comes out. "Please, do me a favor. If you expect me to get through this, don't mention the lie when we're alone. I'm gonna get more than enough of it in public." Sam studies me intently for a moment, until I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable, then she apologizes again. "What did we say about apologizing?"

She gets a sort of sad smile on her face. "Right. No more."  


"Good. I have to get back to work," I say as I head for the door. "There are psychos out there that need to be caught." Like Jack. 

That last thought must have been pretty obvious, because Sam looks concerned. "John, be careful. Being in a hurry to catch Jack is only going to make you sloppy and get you killed. And then all this would be for nothing."

"I know. And I'll be very careful, I promise." I plan to be around to enjoy the freedom in a world without Jack.

***

"I'm pregnant." Two words that change lives. The idea is only slightly more real to me now than it was two months ago when Sam first told me. But I'm about to get my first lesson in dealing with the lies that go along with this particular pregnancy, because she's just said those words to half the VCTF.

The announcement is met with a moment of total silence. Not even a sniffle or a shuffle of feet can be heard in the room as the news sinks in. You can almost see everyone going through the same thought process. *Sam's pregnant. Then who's the... oh, Coop. Poor Sam.* Grace is the first one to actually speak. "Congratulations, honey," she says, as she comes forward and gives her a big hug. Slowly the others chime in with good wishes, but you can tell they're all feeling a little awkward, congratulating her on a child so soon after the death of the man they believe to be his father. I want to yell that the baby is mine, but I made a promise, so I keep my mouth shut. And hope that Jack screws up really, really soon.

***

Three months later I'm past wanting to yell and on to wanting to scream, take out ads and rent space on billboards. Sam's getting bigger, and every time I see her, there's actual, tangible signs of the baby. Part of me wonders how the hell I'm going to keep quiet when there's an actual baby to hold. Another part of me reminds me that if I don't keep quiet, I may not be around to hold the baby. Even if Jack didn't come after me, Sam probably would for putting myself in danger.

Poor Sam. People really weren't sure what to say to her at first, but once they saw how calmly she accepted the situation, they were genuinely happy for her. I managed to get out of earshot the few times I heard some tactless people start to mention what a comfort it must be to be having Coop's baby. That whole thing still bothers me. It wakes me up in the middle of the night sometimes it's so aggravating. I'll be in the middle of a nice dream, and Coop will show up out of nowhere. It's more effective than an alarm clock, and much more irritating. I feel horrible, having such bad thoughts about him. He's dead, and I never wanted that, no matter what I might have said or thought. The fact that his death inadvertently brought about this whole situation only makes it worse. I profited from his death, and even though I never meant to, it's hard to deal with. Resenting him because everyone thinks he's the father only makes it worse. 

I think Sam is feeling the strain of lying to everyone. I've read enough lately to know that pregnancy isn't the most comfortable nine months of a woman's life, but even discomfort shouldn't cause such dark circles under her eyes. Discomfort mixed with guilt and stress, however, just might do the trick. I've tried to help as much as I can, by being a great actor when people are around, so that no one even suspects something is going on, and by being as attentive as possible when we're alone. I was shocked when she asked me to be her Lamaze coach, but I jumped at the chance. I don't think anyone on the task force has thought it was that odd, which would worry me if I didn't know they all think Sam's above reproach. 

I can see her in her office from here. She's holding her head in her hand as she reads something lying on the desk in front of her. Her whole posture looks tired, so tired that just looking at her makes *me* tired. She works too hard. I'm surprised Bailey hasn't done something about that. Maybe I should ask him why.

Before that thought is even completely formed, I'm on my way to his office. He's not even busy for once, so I get to start asking before I have time to think about whether or not it's a good idea. "Can't you make Sam take it easier?" I sit down as I'm asking the question.

He smiles. "Have you ever known anyone who can make Sam do anything?"

"You've got a point there. But you're not only her boss, you're one of her best friends. She's pregnant, can't you talk her into slowing down a little?"

"Not me, I don't have that much influence." He studies me for a second, then lowers his voice. "You're the father of the child, have you tried talking some sense into her?"

"No, but I guess now's as good a time as any other." Without another word I head for Sam's office, stopping at my desk long enough to pick up a file in case she isn't alone and I need an excuse to talk to her.

I find her at her desk, as usual. She's reading, and just as I'm about to knock she leans forward to write something down, but before she can write she laughs. "What's so funny?" I ask.

She looks up, still smiling. "Another month and I don't think I'll be able to work at my desk anymore."

I head for her desk. "That would be such a bad thing?" I ask as I sit down on the corner of her desk. "You should take it easier."

"Ha! When I was pregnant with Chloe I worked until the day she was born."

"If you go into labor at a crime scene I will not be responsible for my actions." 

Grace's recent emergency delivery is still too fresh in my mind to find that idea amusing, but Sam laughs. "It seems to have worked out well for Gra--" She stops and puts her hand to her stomach, which scares the hell out of me.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. The baby's kicking."

"Really?" My concern is replaced by excitement; I've never felt the baby kick. She takes my hand and puts it on her stomach, and asks if I feel it. I wait a second, but nothing happens. "I don't feel--oh! Wow! That's amazing." The tiny foot gives a few strong kicks, then stops. "Does that happen often?"

"Not really. He sleeps a lot."

"Is that normal?"

"It varies from baby to baby, but it's nothing to worry about. Maybe he just needs lots of sleep, like his father."

His father. Somehow the words take a little of the excitement out of the event, maybe because I can't use that phrase myself. I don't want to make things worse for Sam, so I try not to show my feelings, but as I pull my hand away she must sense them, because she apologizes. "Sorry."

"For what?" I open the folder in my hand and pretend to read.

"John." I know what she's going to say and I don't want to hear it. "I'm sorry."

So what else is new? "I thought we agreed, no apologies."

"I know, but--"

I snap the folder shut and look her in the eye. "Sam, I agreed to this. And I knew what I was getting into. I should be thanking you, considering that you could be saving my life by doing this alone."

"Oh, please, I may be a 'single mother' but I haven't gone through one second of this alone."

I smile to convince her that I'm okay. "See? There's nothing to be sorry about. Neither of us is missing out on anything, right?"

Apparently she buys my lie, because she agrees. We're saved from an uncomfortable silence by Bailey's knock on the door.

"Come in," Sam says, looking relieved. "What's up?"

He crosses the room and holds out a box wrapped in baby paper. "A package just came for you."

"Any idea where it came from?"

He shakes his head. "It's been scanned. It rattles, but it's not going to blow up on you when you open it."

I have a sudden urge to tell her not to open it, but I've had a lot of practice at thinking before I speak over the last five months, and I manage to keep my mouth shut. A few seconds later I wish I hadn't. Sam pulls a plastic red rose out of the box. She shakes it, and then I realize it's a baby rattle. The name is in all our minds, but Bailey's the one to actually say it. "Jack." He picks up the note in the box and reads it. "For our baby."

Rage surges through me, but I manage to keep from verbalizing it. I'm sure they can both tell I'm angry, especially Sam, since she instantly tries to comfort me. "At least she know our plan is working," she says as she puts her hand on my leg.

I need more than a vague comforting idea. "How's that?"

"He thinks he's gotten the father out of the way, or he wouldn't be sending me presents for 'our' baby."

"That's very comforting," I say in a tone that contradicts the words. I'd almost managed to convince myself that Jack wasn't going to be a threat. I never thought of myself as delusional, but then I've done lots of things in the last few months I never thought I'd do, so I shouldn't be surprised to add fooling myself to the list.

Now Bailey tries to comfort me with a hand on my shoulder. "One thing is certain. We won't have to find him. He's going to come to us."

"Great. This just keeps getting better and better."

***

I put Jack out of my mind--well, shove him to the back of it anyway--and take Sam to Lamaze class after work. The teacher shows films of births to get us prepared, which makes the baby seem more real somehow. I notice a few of the expectant fathers have to leave the room, and one guy gets very white and has to sit down. The pictures don't bother me; I've seen much worse.

We go to dinner after class, a habit we established from the first day. I'm not sure why Sam agreed to it, probably to pacify me, but it's nice to prolong the feeling that this is a normal pregnancy and not one surrounded lies and serial psychos, even if it's only for another hour. We carry on a semi-normal conversation, but I can't get Jack out of my head any longer, and finally I have to bring him up. "About Jack..."

"There's nothing either of us can do about that that we aren't already doing." It's her standard answer, but it's getting harder to hear it and leave it at that.

"You think he'll make a move before you have the baby?"  


She shakes her head. "I don't think he'll do anything until the baby is born. He thinks this is his child somehow, he's not going to do anything to jeopardize the baby's life."

Great. Jack thinks the baby is his, the rest of the free world thinks the baby is Coop's, and I'm stuck in limbo land, like a poor relation allowed to live in the mansion without having any of the privileges the rest of the family gets. "I don't get it," I say, pushing the other thoughts away. "How does he think this baby is his?"

"He let me have Coop for a little while, until Coop served his purpose, then he took him away."

"So his whole purpose in letting Coop live was for Coop to father a child for Jack? That doesn't make any sense."

"Well, I don't imagine that was his intention at the time, but now I'm sure he sees it that way. He's probably congratulating himself on his instinctive knowledge."

Wouldn't I just love to tell him the truth. The arrogance of that psycho never ceases to amaze me. "I'm sure you won't be surprised if I say that I really hate this son of a bitch."

"Join the club." Sam plays with her food for a second, then gives up. "I can't eat any more of this."

"Yeah, I'm pretty stuffed myself." Amazing how the mention of Jack can ruin an appetite. "Let's get out of here."

We leave and go back to the firehouse. It's dark when we walk in, so I switch on some lights while Sam picks up the note on the coffee table. "Angel took Chloe to Pizza Hut for dinner."

Thinking of Chloe makes me smile. "How's Chloe doing with the idea of a brother or sister?"

"She's pretty excited," Sam smiles. "Still, she's been my baby for so long, I don't want her to feel left out. Angel's being a real sweetheart and taking her out to eat pretty much every night I have class."

"I noticed they're never here when I got back. I was wondering if that was because of me, or just a coincidence."

"I thought you and Angel were okay being around each other."

"We are, but still, if she suspects that I'm, well, that you're not telling the whole truth..."

"I'm sure she has no idea. She would have asked me about it straight out. She's nothing if not direct."

"I know." I don't want to leave just yet, but I can't think of a good excuse to stay. "I guess I should be going."

"Yeah... thanks for seeing me in."

"No problem." Sam follows me to the elevator. She looks incredible in the soft light from the lamps and I'm tired of constantly having to watch everything I say or do around her. What the hell. I lean down and give her a kiss before I get on the elevator. "Night." She's still looking shocked, but not upset, when the doors shut. I hope she doesn't get angry later, but for now I'm just going to enjoy the first spontaneous action I've allowed myself in months.

***

"Well find him." I prop the phone up with my shoulder while reaching for my coffee cup, only to find out that it's empty. "I don't care if there are seven million Johnsons in the city, George, just find the one who knew the dead woman." I put the phone down with more force than necessary. He'll make me pay for yelling at him, but at this point I have more important things to worry about. Like Sam.

The past two months have been a continuous game of one step forward, one step back. Sam and I have spent more time together, but whenever we start to get closer, she pulls away and we're back to where we began. Well, almost. At least now we're both very aware of the attraction between us. I know Sam is because I can see how hard she tries to pretend it's not there. It's frustrating, but I go along with it because she has too much to deal with already.

So I pretend. Time will pass, the baby will be born and Jack will be caught. It's not my style to sit back and wait patiently for events out of my control when everything in me says to go after what I want. But I want it badly enough that I'll wait. The patience part isn't going to happen, but nobody's perfect.

I look toward her office, and I can see the top of her head as she sits down on the couch. She's given up on her desk, even though she's not that big. At least I think she's not that big. Of course, she thinks she's as big as a house. I don't understand why every time I tell her she looks great she hits me.

Since I'm not getting any work done, I figure I might as well see how she's doing. When I get to her office, she's adjusting the pillows behind her back, trying to find a comfortable position. A familiar sight these days. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Same as I was when you checked on me half an hour ago and same as I'll be when you check on me half an hour from now."

"Oh, we're feeling grouchy, eh?"

"I don't know, but we're not feeling like being patronized."

"Sam, it was a joke."

The look of irritation on her face dissolved into one of tired frustration. "I know. I'm just tired. I was up late. The future tap dancer here was taking lessons, so I decided to finish cleaning up Angel's old room to get the nursery ready for his or her arrival."

"Nice to see he's finally waking up."

That earns me a glare. "Nice for who?"

I sit down next to her and put my hands on her lower back. "Here, let me help." She starts to relax as I work the knots out of her muscles.

"Can I just get you to follow me around and do this twenty-four hours a day?"

I laugh. "That might be a little difficult."

"At this point, I don't care as long as it makes the pain go away."

She's working the muscles in her neck, rolling her head around. I know it's my cue to work my way further up her back, but the movement is so sexy it's hard to concentrate on giving a massage. I need to get my mind somewhere else. "Have you heard from Angel?"

"She called yesterday. She seems to be settling in in New York pretty well."

"Any explanation yet about her sudden desire to move north?"

Sam shakes her head, but that's the only answer I get. She's given up on the neck roll and started massaging her neck muscles with her hand, so I move my hands up to take over. She brushes her hair out of the way, baring her neck to give me better access. In my present mood, the action is too much temptation. I massage her neck for a moment, then I move my hands to her shoulders and begin working my way up her neck with my lips instead. A fleeting thought runs through my head that I should have shut the door when I came in, but then Sam shivers, a sure sign that I'm getting past her defenses. A second after I realize that, her entire body tenses and she groans in pain.

I move to the coffee table so I can see her. "What's wrong?"

When she doesn't answer for a few seconds, I'm ready to page Grace, but finally she responds. "Hope you paid attention in class, because I think it's graduation day."

"Huh?"

"The baby. I'm having the baby."

She's snapped. "I know, next month."

"No, now. I'm in labor."

Labor? "Oh." Labor. Baby. "Oh! Oh hell!"

***

Sam, being Sam, has been keeping her suitcase at the office already, just in case. I manage to make it to the hospital without wrecking the car, and we spend too much time checking in for my peace of mind. Finally Sam gets into a room and the doctor comes in, takes a look, and smiles calmly. "We've got some time yet."

Time? She's having a baby. "Uh...." Sam groans and squeezes my hand. "She's in pain, can't you give her something?"

The doctor shakes her head. "Too soon."

Funny. Sam never mentioned her doctor was nuts. "Too soon?"

"We have hours to go yet."

"You mean she has to go through this for hours?" The films in class didn't mention that part, they only showed the easy stuff.

"Relax, Mr. Grant, when it gets bad we'll give her an epidural."

"When it gets bad? What is this?" I notice the nurse is smiling at my reaction, so I take another look at Sam, to see if maybe she's making this seem more painful than it really is. She's pale, she's sweating, and she looks like she'd really rather be face to face with Jack than in here. I turn back to the doctor. "This looks pretty bad."

She laughs. "Trust me, Mr. Grant, she won't even remember the pain."

Maybe not, but I will. Sam groans again, and then she tries to transfer her pain to me by crushing my hand. I wince, and when it's over I flex my hand, trying to get the blood flowing again, which the doctor notices. "You'd better find something else for her to squeeze other than your hand, or you're going to be the one in pain when this is over."

"No, it's okay, if she can do this, I can handle a little pain in my hand." I'm almost offended when both the doctor and the nurse laugh.

***

It's a good thing I'm trained to shoot with both hands, because I am never going to be able to use my right hand again. I swear during the last contraction I actually heard bones break. We're in the delivery room, and we've been at this for hours, and *I'm* tired. I can only imagine how tired Sam is. I'm trying to be supportive, but it's hard when she's threatening to shoot me with my own gun if I don't make them knock her out. Part of me feels almost guilty for wishing I had a video camera to torture her with this later. The other part is centered in my right hand and is wondering if someone in the hospital might have a camera I can rent.

During the last couple of contractions the doctor has actually let her push. I try to move to the other side of the table, to give my right hand a rest, but Sam threatens me with bodily harm if I move an inch, so I stay there as another pain hits her and we go back to pushing. It should be pushing and breathing, but breathing went out the window about five minutes ago. In fact, the entire Lamaze book went out the window and was replaced by Sam's rules, the ones she forgot to give me a copy of.

Sam lets out a different kind of noise a second before I hear the doctor say she can see the baby's head. Sam doesn't care at the moment, she's insisting rather colorfully that there is no way she can do this anymore and that we're just going to have to do it without her. I know reminding her that we can't do that will only get me hit, so I keep my mouth shut and rub her back encouragingly instead. 

Two pushes later, the doctor says three little words that change my life. "It's a boy." Sam lays back, exhausted, and closes her eyes. I move to where I can see the baby. He's red, and wrinkled, with a head full of black hair, and he's completely covered in stuff. He looks very angry to have been disturbed. And he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"Care to cut the cord?" 

I look up and realize the doctor is talking to me. I take the scissors from her and carefully snip the cord. Then I watch as a nurse takes him away to clean him up or whatever it is they have to do. A few moments later, the doctor hands him back to me. He's clean and wrapped up in a blanket, and seems to be a little more happy with his situation. He's so tiny and fragile I'm almost afraid to hold him, but I do. My son. A million things my mother said to me when I was a kid come crashing back to me all at once, and they make sense all of a sudden. The memories make me anxious for this little guy to meet his mother, so I carefully take him over to Sam and place him in her arms. "Say hi to your son, Sam."

"Hey there." She's crying, but I doubt she realizes it as she looks at the little boy. Then she gives me a long look that makes me feel like I single-handedly delivered the baby myself. I lean over and kiss her on the forehead, but before I can move away, she pulls me back down to whisper in my ear. "I love you."

Three more words that could change my life again, if I thought they were true. But considering the circumstances, I doubt she really means it, at least not the way I would like. But this is not the time or the place to argue with her, so I just let it go and watch her hold our son.

***

Hours later we're in Sam's room, but we're not alone. We haven't been alone since the baby was born, which is probably for the best, but irritating all the same. Both of us could use some sleep. Grace and Sam are talking about the baby's hair falling out, which is amusing, and Grace asks me a question, but I don't even hear it. I must give the right response, though, because she seems satisfied.

Bailey walks into the room. "He's beautiful, Sam."

Sam smiles. "He is pretty gorgeous, isn't he?" She looks over at me, silently giving me a little of the credit, the closest thing to admitting the truth she's ever done, and I have to smile. She turns her head, but something catches her attention and she frowns at me. "What happened to you?"

"What?"

"Your hand."

I look down and realize it's pretty bruised from the delivery, so I shove it in my pocket. "Oh, nothing."

"That's not nothing. Let me see it." I reluctantly go over to the bed and hold out my hand for inspection. There are bruise marks that match Sam's hand, but she still doesn't realize where they came from. "How did this happen?"

I attempt a very unsuccessful glare. "You don't know your own strength."

It takes her a second, but she gets it. "I did that? In the delivery room." I nod. "I'm so sor--"

I use my sore hand to cover her mouth before she can finish. "No apologies, remember?" The words were quiet enough not to be understood by Grace or Bailey, but then she gives me the same look I saw in the delivery room, and it takes me a moment to realize we aren't alone and pull away.

She rips her gaze away from me and turns her head. "So, Bailey, all of the security is in place, right?"

"Everything's set. We'll know where he is twenty-four hours a day." I can't help hoping it was the right decision to use the skin beeper. We were assured he would be fine, but still, if anything went wrong I'd never forgive myself for talking Sam into it. But it was better than the alternative of never seeing the baby again, and knowing he was in Jack's hands.

"So, have you decided on a name?" Grace asks.

Sam smiles. "No, but we've argued about a name."

"We?"

"Chloe and me," she covers. She glances at me, but there's nothing I can do, so I just shrug. Before anyone can process the lousy cover-up, an alarm shatters the mood. Agent Barrow comes running into the room. "The baby's gone."

The tracker is in my hand and I'm at the door demanding Barrow's gun before I even make a conscious decision to move. He balks for a second, until Bailey orders him to give me the gun. As soon as it's in my hands I'm racing down the hall, determined that no matter what, that bastard will not get my child.

***

I track him to the basement; not a surprise, since snakes always slither to the lowest points. At the bottom of the stairwell, there are two doors leading into the basement. I try one, but it only opens from the inside. That leaves the other door. "We don't know how many exits there are to the outside," I remind Bailey quietly.

He understands my meaning--Jack could have devised any number of plans involving exits we didn't know existed. "All units, surround the lower floor, and make sure the sewage pipes are covered." 

I ease the door open. "I'm going in."

"Right behind you."

"No. That other door opens into here. Don't let him out that way."

"You can't go in there without backup."

I narrow my eyes as I look at him over my shoulder. "This is my--" I stop for a second as I remember the comm system. "You know what this means to me. I don't trust anybody else but you to watch that door. And I don't trust anybody else be me to go in there."

After a moment, Bailey nods. "Yell if you need me."

The door barely squeaks as I slide through it and into the room. I gently turn the lock, knowing that by the time Bailey gets in here, I'll have time to take care of Jack, and no interruptions before I'm done. The red light on the tracking monitor is coming from about thirty feet away, on the other side of a large boiler. I quietly make my way to the machine, and when I get to the other side, I can see the baby, lying on a table alone. Only he isn't alone. One second later, a man pops up from behind the table and grabs him, then stands back against the wall, a knife in his hand. "Ah, ah, ah, Agent Grant. Wouldn't want to cut the defenseless little child."

There is no mistaking that voice. And it isn't coming from a speaker or a tape recorder this time. "Jack." I point my gun at his head, but he's holding the baby too close to his face to risk it. "Wish I could say it's nice to finally meet you, but I already know enough psychos."

He laughs. "Always ready with a snappy comeback, aren't you? We'll see how funny you are in a few minutes."

"In a few minutes, you'll be dead and I'll be laughing, so I'm guessing you'll be the funny one. Dead, but funny."

"That's very amusing. But to kill me, you'd have to endanger Samantha's poor little baby. And I know you would never do that, considering how you feel about her."

I manage to laugh, then I say something I never thought would come out of my mouth. "That baby is Nick Cooper's. If you think that endears him to me, you're dumber than you look."

"Nice try, *John*, but I know you're in love with Samantha. You're all in love with her. And none of you will ever have her, or her child."

"If it was about the baby, I'd tell you to take him. You're right. I'm in love with Sam. All that baby is is a reminder of a dead lover. Who needs that? You take the kid, I'll stay behind and comfort her while she gets over it. Who do you think's gonna make it into her bed first, Jack, huh?"

"You will never have her."

"You're sounding pretty sure of yourself for someone who's been reduced to stealing screaming brats because you can't bear to show yourself to the woman you claim to love so much. Of course, now that I get a good look at you, I can see why. She wouldn't give you the time of day."

"Shut up!"

"No, Sam prefers men with a little muscle. Not to mention a clean bill of mental health."

"That's enough!" He moved the knife within inches of the baby's neck. "You want me to kill him?"

I shrug nonchalantly, even as my heart rate triples. I never knew I could act this well. "I already told you, I'll live."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine." I lower my gun and take a few steps back, yanking off my communications equipment. "Go. Take the kid."

I finally have him confused. "What's the trick?"

"No trick. I already told you, it's in my best interests to let you take him."

"I wouldn't call that your best interests. Samantha's little indiscretions tend to have short life spans."

"You ever come after me and you'll find me a little harder to get than a stupid bomb chaser or a little baby."

He laughs. "I like your style, John. I think in another life, we could have been friends."

Don't count on it, you son of a bitch. "Whatever. Look, if you're leaving, get out of here now, 'cause my boss will be here any minute, and I don't want to have to explain why you're not dead yet."

He backs up a few steps and twists around to lay the baby on something, his eyes never leaving me, and his knife never far from the baby. "We're leaving," he says to the baby, "as soon as I finish this." I see a flash of metal, and before I can duck completely, Jack hits me in the face with a pipe. My gun goes off, and as I hit the floor I see him shoved backward with the force of the bullet. He remains standing, however, and when he comes toward me with the pipe raised, I clear my vision as best as I can and fire two more times. This time, he falls to the ground, and I get up and grab the baby, holding him as close as I can with my right arm, while keeping my left one extended to hold the gun on Jack. 

It would be so easy to shoot him again. And again. And again, until he's no longer a problem. I'm tempted, but before I have to make that decision, there are a few little items I'd like him to know. "By the way, *Jackie*, I have some news for you. You've been had."

From the sound of his breathing, I think one of the bullets pierced his lung. Another one is somewhere in his chest, and the third seems to have hit his arm. Despite the wounds, he manages a rather raspy laugh. "I seriously doubt that."

I smile down at him. "Oh, but you have. You were stupid. Didn't even bother to check your facts. Cooper didn't come back here to get cozy with Sam again. They were over. And he sure as hell didn't sleep with her before you had your little girlfriend turn him into a bad woodshop experiment."

I can finally see the pain registering in his eyes, and he seems weaker. "What are you.... talking about?"

"Cooper's not the baby's father. Didn't anyone teach you to check all your facts? Or did you think you were so smart you didn't have to?" He doesn't answer, he's too busy looking like he might actually pass out. "Oh no you don't. I want you awake for this one." I shove him hard in the side with my foot, and he coughs, but he looks at me, and I can tell he understands me. "This baby isn't Coopers, and it sure as hell will never be yours. Because it's mine."

I can see comprehension and rage in his eyes before it gets clouded by pain. My gun had been trained on his chest, but now I move it up until it's aimed right between his eyes. "Do it," he whispers. "Go ahead...you want to."

It would be so easy. Too easy. "Nope, looks like you're going to have to take your chances with the courts. Assuming the doctors manage to keep you alive. I'm not murdering anyone, especially not you." Bailey finally makes it to me, a few more agents in tow.

"Sorry it took so long. Somehow the door got locked."

"Gee, I wonder how that happened." 

He gives me an understanding look, then adds, "I don't know, but if it were to happen again, I think you'd be dead, because if the bad guy didn't kill you, I'd finish the job." 

I nod. I won't need to do something like that again. I watch as Jack is placed on a stretcher and restrained, then I hug my son even closer to me. "If you'll excuse me, I think someone upstairs will really want to see this little boy." I hand Bailey the gun and hurry toward the stairs.

***

I don't even bother with the elevators, I take the stairs as fast as I can without endangering the baby. When I walk into the room, Sam's trying to get out of bed, but when she sees us she lays back and starts to cry. I put the baby in her arms for a second time in twenty-four hours and sit down next to her bed. "I wouldn't have let Jack get out of here with him, Sam."

"I know." She checks out the baby, looking for any damage and when she's satisfied she finally asks, "Jack?"

"He's in the emergency room being treated."

"For what?"

"For being on the wrong end of a Glock." Her eyes search my face, but I'm not ready to talk about it yet. The bastard is out of commission, with any luck forever, and that's all that matters right now.

"Is it serious?"

"I didn't wait to find out. Bailey's keeping an eye on the progress down there, he'll let us know when there's news."

Grace makes a noise behind me and it finally registers in my brain that she's in the room. "I'm just going to go down and see if he's heard anything."

As she leaves, everything that's happened starts catching up with me. I hug Sam and the baby at the same time, sort of just to make sure they're both really there, safe and sound. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now. Thank you."

"For what?"

"Getting him back."

She must be kidding. "There was no way that bastard was going to have him."

"I know."

Bailey walks in, but he doesn't say anything. Patience isn't one of my strengths. "What?"

"Jack's dead." I let out a deep sigh of relief. It would have been just like Jack to make me regret not finishing him off.

"How do you know? You don't know that it's him, it could be another decoy."

I look her in the eye. "It's him, Sam. Trust me."

"You're sure?" she asks, searching my face.

"I have no doubt about it."

"Then it's over. It's really, finally over." She leans on me, something I could get very used to. "I can't believe it."

"Believe it. He's gone and he can't hurt you any more."

She smiles, then looks down at the baby. "Hear that? How's that for the best birthday present ever?"

***

I stay close by Sam in the hospital room for the next few hours, until after Grace takes the baby to have the tracker removed, when Sam finally forces me to go get some food. When I get back, Sam is holding the baby, and Grace is standing over them both, admiring the baby.

Sam smiles up at me. "That was a quick dinner."

"Didn't want to be gone that long." 

Bailey comes in to say goodnight and Grace follows his lead, but Sam stops them before they can walk out. "Wait. Before you both go, I have an announcement to make."

"We already know you're having a baby," Bailey jokes.

"Funny." She glances at the baby, then looks at me. "I've decided on a name. His name is Ian."

I can't hide my surprise or my happiness at hearing my grandfather's name. I hear Grace say "Ian Waters," then Sam drops another bombshell.

"No. Ian Grant." Now I'm truly shocked. Happy, but shocked. She brought up the name Ian once, but we'd never even discussed giving the baby my last name. Of course, we never figured Jack would be out of the picture, so there wasn't any point in discussing it.

It suddenly occurs to me that Sam just announced that I'm the baby's father. Ian's father. I like the sound of that.

Bailey says goodnight, but I barely hear him. When he claps me on the shoulder before he leaves, I'm finally brought back to earth, just in time to hear Grace ask me a question. "I guess congratulations are in order for you too?" I nod. I'm sure I'm probably grinning like an idiot, but I don't care.

As soon as Grace leaves, I take a seat next to Sam. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything."

"You didn't have to do any of that."

She looks up from playing with the baby and meets my eyes. "No, I didn't have to. I wanted to. You have been incredible throughout all of this. And you've kept quiet about being the father, when I know you must have wanted to say something a million times, especially since Ian was born."

"You're not worried about what people will think?"

She takes my hand. "You're the best father I could have asked for my son. So why would I worry about what anyone would think?"

I don't know what I did to deserve my luck, but I won't question it. "Now how can I argue with logic like that?" I can't help myself, I lean over and give her a light kiss. "I'm gonna get out of here so the two of you can get some sleep. I'll be back in the morning to see what time they're letting you out."

"Thanks."

I pick Ian up and hold him close to me, enjoying the baby smell, and the feel of his small fist trying to curl around one of my fingers. A saying from my childhood pops into my head. "'Fathers hold their children's hands for just a little while, but their hearts forever,'" I whisper softly, before I kiss him on the cheek and give him back to Sam. I kiss her one last time, then I know I have to go. "Night."

***

Every night since I brought Sam and Ian home from the hospital, she's insisted on taking care of midnight feedings. Four nights without a decent night's sleep. It has to stop. So as soon as I'm sure she's asleep, I sneak in and take the baby monitor. Ian will still get his bottle, and Sam will get some well-needed rest. A perfect plan. At least, that's what I thought. 

The reality is a little different. It's hard to feed a baby when you're only half-awake. He's being fussy, and he doesn't want to finish the milk, and I'm torn between wanting to go back to sleep and wanting to enjoy every moment I get alone with him. Finally, I manage to figure out that if I walk while he's drinking it seems to work better. He's finally drinking away, so I start talking to him.

"You have to understand that your mother needs her sleep, young man. No more of this fussing when I give you a bottle in the middle of the night. What's that?" I pretend to listen. "Well thank you, I'm glad you like my bottle technique. Tell you what, since you appreciate me so much, think maybe you could put in a good word with your Mom? Maybe she'd take a little more help."

"Who said he needed to?" Sam's voice from the doorway scares me half to death.

"Uh...hi."

"Hi." She moves to the stove and puts water on to boil. "Why would Ian need to put in a good word for you?"

Oops. "Oh, uh...well, you just don't always want to let me help with things like middle of the night feedings, and...."

"And so you snuck into my room and took the baby monitor so I wouldn't have a choice, right?"

Well when she puts it that way it doesn't sound quite so brilliant. "I wouldn't need to if you'd let me help a little more."

"You're staying in the guest room, you're always the first one to get him when he wakes up in the morning, and you've watched him like a hawk since we came home from the hospital, while I've lazed around and slept. I think you've helped."

"You were the one who went through all that stuff in the hospital, you deserve to sleep a little."

She moves closer, then reaches up to caress the bruise Jack left on my cheek. "You went through quite a bit in the hospital yourself." She touches the bruises on my hand. "During the delivery and after."

I'm mesmerized by the combination of sleeplessness, her nearness, and her feather-light touch. I can't move for a moment. Then Ian moves slightly, and the spell is broken. I take a step away from Sam and look down at my son. "I think he's asleep again," I say as I put the bottle in the sink. "I'll just put him back in the crib."

She follows as I head back to the nursery. I lay him in the crib and cover him up, then I just stare at him for a moment. I whisper that saying to him again as I stroke his forehead, then we leave the room.

"What was that you whispered to him?"

I hesitate for a second, afraid it will sound corny out loud, but this is Sam, what difference does it make? "'Fathers hold their children's hands for just a little while, but their hearts forever.' My mother used to say that to me every night--well, she said 'Mothers' but I figure it works both ways."

She gives me an odd look. "That's beautiful. Is that what you said in the hospital?" I nod. "Ian certainly got lucky in the father department."

There's something special about getting complimented on parenting from Mother of the Year. "Not nearly as lucky as he was in the mother department."

"Well, now that we've affirmed the mutual admiration society, I guess it's time to get some sleep."

"Yeah." It's late, and I'm tired, so I can't resist kissing her. She doesn't seem to mind; she even kisses me back--a fact that will keep me awake for at least another hour. "Night, Sam," I say when we finally pull away from each other. She goes into her room and shuts the door, and I head down the hall to the guest room.

I'm almost ready to climb into bed when there's a knock on the door. It's Sam. "What's wrong?"

"Can I come in?" I nod and pull the door open enough for her to come in. Once she's inside, she closes the door and leans back against it, then just stands there for a moment. "I love you," she says, finally.

She really should try this some time when we're not both tired and defenseless. It's harder to resist this way. "Not exactly what I was expecting you to say."

"You can't be surprised; I said it once before."

Like I would forget. "But that was right after you'd just been through an incredible experience and you were pretty emotional."

"Which doesn't mean I didn't mean it."

I can't help thinking she's going to regret this in the morning. "Sam...you've been through a lot lately, don't you think it's possible that you could be making decisions based on emotions and not facts?"

"I loved you before I had the baby. I fought it because of Jack, but even with that good of a reason I was having a hard time denying it. I'm not sure how long I've loved you, but I know it has nothing to do with circumstances. If there were no Ian, I'd still love you. If we'd never slept together that night, I'd still love you. It's just there, and there's no getting around it, no matter how many times I tried in the past."

I'm starting to think she really means it. Part of me doesn't want to believe she's really felt that way all this time, but another part keeps saying that I wouldn't have felt such a powerful attraction between us if she hadn't.

"Look, I'm not expecting you to love me back, but I owe you the truth if nothing else.

She has to be joking. Not love her? That makes me laugh. "Not love you back? I fell in love with you the second I saw you, don't you know that by now?" She's really serious. She loves me. I'm not sure exactly what to do, so I find myself grabbing her, holding her tightly, and never wanting to let go. Of course, eventually I have to let go, at least enough to be able to kiss her. Several times. We're both exhausted, so we lie down and just hold each other while we talk for a while, then hold each other a little longer in silence. 

"It's after four o'clock," she says eventually. "I should go to bed." She moves, but I stop her from getting up.

"Stay. Please?" I don't want her to leave. This still seems a little like some dream, and I want her to be here in the morning when I wake up so that I know it really happened.

"John, I just had a baby. I can't...."

She can't sleep because she had a--oh. "I know. I just want to hold you. That's all."

She smiles, then she lies back down next to me, and I turn off the light. I close my eyes, and enjoy being able to smell her presence and feel the warmth of her lying beside me. For the first time in my life, I may actually have everything I want. I can't think of any feeling better than that, except maybe her hair brushing against my cheek just now. That may be the best feeling of all.

* * *

   [1]: http://gwis2.circ.gwu.edu/~betha/fanfic.htm
   [2]: mailto:betha@gwis2.circ.gwu.edu?subject=



End file.
